


Haze of You

by fandramatics



Series: 101 Prompts Challenge [28]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, female!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24201121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandramatics/pseuds/fandramatics
Summary: 28. "Home is too far away. No one's going to see us here"
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 101 Prompts Challenge [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503173
Kudos: 10





	Haze of You

Aziraphale sighed, the warmth of his breath creating white mist on the champagne glass in his hand. His blue orbs wandered from the redhead’s hair to her back, down to her rear, this last part of her figure drawing even more of his attention as she leaned forward to cut a slice of cake to the birthday boy she no longer looked after, but that she’d also never let go of.

Warlock gave his former nanny a wide grin, thanked her, and ran towards his friends before he could be seen with the woman.

Crowley smiled to herself, shook her head, and found the angel watching her, her expression shifting immediately to a sneer. She strode on her black heels towards him, holding her arms, “Just the right amount of devious.”

The angel’s gaze lingered on her throat before rising to her dark lenses, “Is he now?”

She nodded, glanced towards the boy, “I’m surprised he remembers me.”

“You were an important part of his life, dear,” the principality whispered, he moved a lock away from her shoulder. The silk of her blouse was delicious to touch, yet his fingers longed for something else. His eyes wandered to her chest.

“... Isn’t it, right, angel?” she asked, “Angel?” she caught him, her face burned and she swallowed hard, “Someone is distracted, you might want to save this for later at home.”

Aziraphale took her by the elbow, “Come with me, dear.”

Years as the gardener of the Downlings taught him a thing or two about the land, which included secluded areas where no one other than workers went when necessary. That was where he took his companion, a gardener closet. He closed the door behind them and kissed the redhead.

“Angel, what--” tried the demon.

“Home is too far away. No one’s going to see us here,” promised the principality, his hands tugging the black pencil skirt up while he tasted inch by inch of Crowley’s neck, “I had an absurd vision, darling. It drove me out of my mind, I’m terrified by it, but…” his teeth dug on her flesh, “There’s this part of me that just would love to have it come true.”

She shivered as he drew her blouse out of the way, exposing her bra, caressing her over it, “W-What? What have you seen?”

Aziraphale shook his head, “I shouldn’t tell you, yet…” he pulled the bra cup away, caressed her nipple to hardness.

“Angel…” a tremor went through her form, “Say it.”

He went for her ear nibbled at it, whispered his answer. His hand slid down, coached her legs apart, his digits played at the edge of her thigh highs.

Crowley groaned, “Do it, Aziraphale.”

The principality faced her, took her glasses off, studied her golden irises, and tasted her mouth. Caressed her tongue with his own before the kiss deepened and he had her against the nearest shelf, found his place between her thighs, a skilled finger teasing at her entrance over her panties.

“I love you, my dear,” the angel whispered.

“I love you too,” she muttered.

He pulled the fabric away, exposed her wet, glistening core to him, felt her at the tip of his fingers, a smile appearing in his features, “So good, so warm. I guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting.”

Crowley let out a low squeal, followed by a whine when she heard her companion’s belt being undone, his zipper coming down. She saw his hands move, how he touched his hard prick, and guided it to her entrance, teased her before sinking in with a slow thrust she savored as much as he did.

Her legs wrapped around him, as did her arms. Her lipstick painted his face a clear shade of red, her fingers played with his blonde locks wherever she could reach them. 

Whatever she whispered in his ear kept him thrusting, movements as sweet as her love promises. If either of them used an inhuman language that wasn’t clear, yet there was no denying the force radiating from the two supernatural beings, love coming out in waves, it made flowers spurt on the garden of the Downlings, made the sky particularly clear, the breeze unusually pleasant.

She moaned, trembled, legs tightened around him, held him close as if locked in place, collapsed against him. He kissed her features, caressed the hair away from her face, stopped when he couldn’t take it anymore, pressed his teeth together to contain noise, and relaxed in her arms when she captured him.

“My beautiful angel…” Crowley kissed his cheek, she focused on wiping his face clear of her lipstick, smiling to herself.

Aziraphale blinked, faced his companion, “Oh dear, what have I done?”

She chuckled, “Relax, angel,” she snapped her fingers, made them look as perfectly dressed as they were before they entered the gardener closet, “Come on, we must go back to the party before we’re missed,” she took the angel’s hand, guided him out.


End file.
